Anomen's Thoughts
by arabellaesque
Summary: Anomen reflects over the past few months, and tries to take back charge of his life


**This was inspired by a song, and written soon after - first work!**

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Anomen stood on the crest of the hill, looking across the Amnish lands. The past few months had passed in a daze, memories of those now missing from his life plaguing his waking moments, vivid dreams of the same haunting his dreams. It seemed that no matter how busy he tried to make himself within the Order, his mind could not - would not - rest.

Four months ago he had kissed her for the last time. Five months ago he had believed their futures would be entwined forever. But she had changed; as her siblings fell and her power grew, she had spent more and more time thinking about the choice she had to make. In the end, she'd decided to accept the mantle of her dead sire, ascending into immortality, promising him she would use it to do good.

But although her mortal form had left him forever on that day, he had been unable to move on. Her presence seemed to follow him wherever he went, his thoughts were still dominated by the time they'd shared - and the time they ought to now be experiencing together. The bittersweet feelings were consuming him, and he knew it.

He could remember seeing her for the first time, a bedraggled figure really, just one of the crowd in the tavern. She had almost blended in completely with the other inhabitants of the slums, and he'd almost missed her passing him. But then she'd looked to him, and their eyes had met - her bright green eyes, defying her otherwise frail appearance, betraying her true stature. He had introduced himself before he'd realised what he was doing, and when she had offered him the chance to fight alongside her he'd not even hesitated to say yes.

Over the months, they had grown closer and closer. It hadn't been easy; she was quiet, almost withdrawn, and the tales about her were legendary. He desperately racked his brains for missions he'd undertaken that would have even a slim chance of impressing the mysterious woman. She had always been politely interested, she had always encouraged him with the decisions he had faced. When Moira had died, she had been there, caring and compassionate, guiding him gently to do the right thing. He had passed his test because of her.

Even when they had taken the first tentative steps towards romance, things did not go smoothly. He knew what she was - what it meant to be the offspring of a god, and he accepted the danger that went with it. He hadn't prepared himself for the change that wound undertake her so drastically though, changing her very form before his eyes, causing the normally gentle figure to lust for blood, and to strike out at anyone nearby - even her own friends.

When she reverted to her human form she'd broken down into tears, and he had held her while she wept, unconcerned about the risk the others said he was taking. They had remained her friends, but he knew they found themselves watching their backs - wanting to trust her as they had before, but unable to forget what was within her when it had maifested itself so plainly.

But he loved her. Even as she fought the pull of the slayer form, he loved her completely, and now that she was gone from his life, his love remained unchanged, and unlikely to.

Wakening up with her in his arms had made him feel so complete. He had grown and matured in her company, she had quelled the temper and anger within him that he always feared he would lose control of. She showed him humility and humbleness, and he learned to be more accepting with her guidance.

She had left many positive marks on him, but they all just served to remind him of what he'd had, and what he'd lost. He was still recognised as her former love, and some treated him with respect and pity, while others just envied him. They didn't have a clue.

Now people were beginning to follow her, and she was becoming a Goddess in her own right. Small temples had sprung up dedicated to her, the statues displaying such uncanny likeness that he felt physically incapable of going near them. Her presence filled so much of his conscious thought, that he could not bear to willingly put himself through any more pain by seeing her form immortalised in stone.

The other paladins were concerned over his inability to move on. They called it 'obsession', and tried to counsel him, to make him see that he had a life to live - to go on with. And dutifully, he agreed, and got on with his missions. But nothing could stop the feelings that constantly churned through his very being.

He tried to tell himself repeatedly that there was no use in lingering over the past. He had tried to take the good memories, and move on with them, relishing what he'd had, rather than lamenting on what he'd lost. But it was no use. At every turn he was reminded of her, he had no opportunity to withdraw.

Every day it felt as if his heart broke again when he realised she would never return. Now, he was almost left wishing their relationship had never taken place; or at least, that he'd never had the false hope that he would be important enough for her to stay with.

Had he ever been her priority though? She had known for a long time what she was before she met him, and she had likely considered all her options. Perhaps he was fooling himself to think that there could have been a chance for them; perhaps he was just an episode in her life, as so many of her other companions had been, but with him she had allowed it to become more than mere comradeliness.

Maybe it had always meant more to him than it had to her.

Maybe it really was time to move on.


End file.
